War Thunder: Into the Void and Into the Crossfire
by ArchAngel117
Summary: A player testing out the Rift doesn't know that he is in the SW universe. Generally, when he finds out, he is probably going to beat the Neuroi's asses, along with some friends of course. Story inspired by SillyGoy's Through the Rift and Once More Into the Rift.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello once again guys! AA-117 here. Yes, I know it's not a sequel to War Thunder to War Dust: Harden Skies and Harden Witches, but it's going to be a more...refined version? I guessing that. This story is inspired by SillyGoy with his Through the Rift and Once More Into the Rift, his rewrite of his original. **

**So, my WT username is jetman 65. I fly the American line and a bit of the German line. **

**BIO**

**PROFILE NAME: jetman65**

**LEVEL: LEVEL 9-EX:I NEED TO KNOW WHAT RANK IS MY PILOT IS AT 9, I CAN'T FIND IT OUT**

**PLANES-**=FULLY UPGRADED**

**AMERICAN-**

**PBY-5A CATALINA**

**SBD-3 DAUNTLESS****

**P-400 ARIACOBRA**  
><strong>

**P-40E-1 KITTYHAWK****

**B-25J-20 MITCHELL **

**GERMAN-**

**HE-112 V-5**

**BF-110 C-4**

**So...let's go!**

* * *

><p><span><strong>WAR THUNDER: INTO THE VOID AND INTO THE CROSSFIRE<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>TEST FLIGHT-ESSEN AIRBASE-NORDRHEIN-WESTFALEN-GERMANY<strong>

**CONDITIONS-CLEAR, PARTLY CLOUDY, LIGHT WIND**

**PLANE-BF-110 C-4**

* * *

><p>War Thunder never cease to never amaze me.<p>

Everything was perfect in it, with some few problems. But still, it's a amazing game. I looked around the cockpit of my reliable Bf-110 C-4, seeing the red lightning paint I slapped on the left wing, it's angry red color spread across the wing sideways. I looked to the left to see the '100' digits I painted on the right wing, on top of engine two, perfectly aligned with it. I switched to 3rd person and viewed around the base.

It was breathtaking. Life-like people walked around, worked, and talked around the base. I pushed my throttle to 100% and my plane began to move like a baby taking it's first steps. I saw my gunner on his gun as if he expected to see enemies pop up in surprise, I switched back to the cockpit. My props began to bit the air, my tires lifting up, and I gladly moved the mouse up, pushing the virtual stick to my pilot.

I noticed some of the personal on the base stared at my Tier 1 Heavy Fighter as I sped past them. My plane lifted up and the officer at the control tower saluted me. It was generally useless gesture, due to the fact my plane was already moving really fast. Surprisingly, my pilot and my gunner saluted back just as my plane sped past. I looked back to the airbase and back to the front, not wanting to kill my virtual character...not yet.

Heh, not yet...actually, screw that, I'll land after destroying the vehicle. Then I'll-

**OH FUC-**

* * *

><p>A young girl and a middle-aged man watched the unscheduled Bf-110 fade away from their eyes. A another man, whom was in his early-twenties, ran to the man and saluted him and panting at the same time.<p>

"Sir, the pilot nor his gunner had responded to our calls.", the officer reported. The older man scowled angrily.

"Dammit. This adds more to his punishment he and his gunner is going to receive.", the older officer said, "and their punishment is going to be no leave for 1 year and eating low quality rations. It was originally going to be half a year of no leave, but..."

"Isn't that a bit too tad harsh, sir.", the young girl said, feeling sympathy towards the two airmen. The old officer laughed at the statement.

"You should learn, Minna, that you must keep your subordinates in check, and that goes far as punishing them real hard.", the officer said boldly.

"But...what if they-", Minna said before being cut off by the veteran.

"What if they don't deserve it? Pah! If they don't deserve it, they won't even receive it, because they are disciplined and well mannered soldiers, never stepping pass the line and respect their higher ups.!", the old man preached.

"Hey!", a young voice rang out behind the man. The three turned to see a young Erica Hartmann skipped towards them. She had a officer's cap on her head, just on the verge of falling off. "Did you see the 110 fly off!?", she asked.

"Yes we did, little Erica.", the old man said, ruffling her hair. Erica squirmed and struggled to get out of his grasp.

"I saw the plane's paint on it.", Erica said. The man smiled and asked, "What was his paint, so we can identify the pilot."

"Well, I saw a re-", Erica was cut off as another girl ran up to them and panted harder than the officer earlier.

"Franzi!? What is it? I was just-", the old officer said angrily before the veteran witch told him the grim news.

"The Bf-110 crashed! Into the city! He banked too hard to the left and crashed into the streets. Nobody wasn't hurt, exception of the pilot and gunner, and some collateral damage.", Franzi Stigler reported.

The officer suddenly turned furious and angrily yelled out curse, his face turning very red. The people surrounding him were shocked by his act of anger.

"Get us a goddamned car, NOW! Erica, Minna, Franzi, were going to see the crash, to show you such a waste of life, materials, and money! To show what could happen if you don't keep the men and girls under you command in check!", he ordered angrily. Minna's heart turned pale at the sight of seeing the crash and the corpses.

"Atholl! Don't bring my trainees to the crash! They shouldn't see this type of stuff!", Franzi scolded the officer.

The man, nevertheless, didn't care what the veteran girl says to him.

* * *

><p>Despite the angry words and pleading from Franzi, Atholl and the others were at the crash site. Various people working with the firefighters tried their best in clearing out the large, angry, red fire. Minna could swear she could she the frozen still body of the pilot within the fire and people. A meat wagon with a stretcher team was nearby, waiting to bring the pilot and the gunner to the hospital if they survived. Flakes of metals and engine pieces were littered everywhere on the streets, laying among pieces with destroyed pieces of cars that were unlucky to be caught in the path of the Heavy Fighter.<p>

The wings were ripped out and lay on the streets, the left propped up against a building, showing off it's red lightning mark painted sideways, and the right lay flat on the sidewalk, showing a shattered engine and a '100' paint of top of the engine. The props lay limp on the remains of the engines and even one piece was found pinned in a wall, just inches from cutting a bystander's head off. The chatters of civilians and yells of warnings pf MPs were heard among the raging fires and the yells of firefighters. Birds, dogs, cats, and more stared at the blackened ruins at one of their master's greatest inventions. Franzi held onto Erica's and Minna's hand tightly as she remembered a sight like this, just on the battlefield where the beams flew, the yells of soldiers, and the scared faces were.

The fires were finally gone and MPs started to remove the body of the pilot and the gunner. Silence filled the crowd and the animals. There, laying the cold, hard, black road of the city, was the corpse of the pilot and the gunner. Few people puked and cried at the sight. It was a horrifying sight, a utter waste of life.

Their flight uniforms were glued to their bodies. Their eyes completely gone, courtesy of the heat from the fires. Their hands were fused into claws and their skins completely dark and crisp. Their mouths were burnt into ashes and their inside empty and dry. Some bone could be even seen.

Erica cried into the arms of Franzi, whom wept too, while Minna placed a hand over her mouth. Atholl just simply stared at the corpses. MPs also were able to get a collapsible chess board complete with chess pieces. As the MPs handed the unharmed chess board over to Atholl, the stretcher teams simply picked up the bodies and carried them to the meat wagon. Atholl opened the chess board and inside was the pieces, along with a photo.

There in the photo, was the Bf-110 C-4 and her crew. 2 young men rested on the right wing where the '100' was painted. The pilot had black hair, a strong, lean, face, while his gunner had a baby-face, blond hair by the looks of it, and a stern-like face. On the back of the photo, 'Keep on flying!' were written on the back in English. Atholl placed the picture back with the chess pieces and closed the chess board. He handed it to Franzi and took out a cigar.

It was simply tragic to see a sight like this. Papers were sifted by officers and they still couldn't find any identification pf the pilot nor the plane. There wasn't anything that the military could use to trace the plane to any factories. The name of the pilot and the gunner were found, along with their callsigns, which was on their dog tags.

Pilot's dog tags-

_Jack Beleuchtung_

_Callsign: Jetman65_

Gunner's dog tags-

_Mack Brennen_

_Callsign: Jetman65-1_

The mysterious event was called the 'The Essen Mystery'. Minna couldn't take her mind off of the pilot and his gunner. 'They were stupid...', Minna thought during her practice flights. 'They did something really stupid, and it led them to their deaths.', Minna added angrily. "Why? Just Why did they had to go out.", Minna muttered.

The Bf-110 was rebuilt with the same art and all. It was left as a tribute, a monument, to the two Karlslanders who died. Their names were inscribed on the nose. The plane was placed next to the airbase's school, for the witches-in-training to see. Minna was given the chess board, which she used it to play with her peers during break time.

The picture was placed in the small storage compartment of Minna's Striker Unit. Minna also had a 20mm canon bullet she found on the street that day of the crash. She too placed that in her storage compartment.

That day, was a very tragic day to all.

* * *

><p>Well, it wasn't tragic to the pilot, who had a shit-eating grin on her face. He accidentally crashed into the city, which didn't matter to him. Along with that, he's going to try out the Oculus Rift on his American planes. He stretched his limbs and he cracked his back against his chair. On his screen, the kill feed showed his crash.<p>

_-[JV401ST]- jetman65 (Bf-110 C-4) has crashed_

He exited the test flight and got ready to fly his new He-112 V-5 he just got. He clicked into To Battle after decorating it with the Poland's Armor Division Emblem, which is a white Phoenix on the tail, and a big yellow lightning bolt on the left wing that was sideways and lined up with the fuselage. The screen came up with the waiting time before the match came up. He viewed the battle to see a Ground Strike mission, and apparently in the African Canyons. He picked up his bottle and removed the cap.

"I've gotta try that again.", he said, sipping the bottle of water. Placing the bottled water back, he snacked on a Granola bar and checked. His game came up and he clicked on his He-112 V-5. "Going to kick some asses with this plane.", the player said confidently to himself. 5 minutes already in the match, and he lost his plane to a BB-1.

"No worries.", he said, taking out his Bf-110, the same one he crashed in the test flight.

And we end this chapter with this.

"MOTHERFUCKING JACKASS!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Heelo guys! Sorry about the long time...if you can call it a long time in FF terms. Anyway, many thanks to SillyGoy for giving my story a blessing! I will try my best not to copy him, though. Also, I still need the rank translation for Level 9. I an Airman, a Senior Airman, Sargent? Anyway, let's start!**

* * *

><p><span><strong>WAR THUNDER: INTO THE VOID AND INTO THE CROSSFIRE<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>TEST FLIGHT-DOVER STRAITS-OFF THE COAST OF BRITAIN<strong>

**CONDITIONS-CLEAR, PARTLY CLOUDY, LIGHT WIND  
><strong>

**PLANE-PBY-5A CATALINA**

* * *

><p>My PBY-5a spawned in the air, 300 meters from the Strait. Shockingly, I looked around to see the cockpit of a Catalina! Is this a new update or something? I didn't see it in the launcher's news section. But still, it's amazing.<p>

There was much instruments and such in my view and my co-pilot, who was checking on the instruments. My HUD was still there, but the cockpit was dark and covered to the brim with gauges, the HUD interface, and my avatar and co-pilot.

"Man, this is amazing.", I said as I saw a prompt on my screen. It said _'Press Num 5 to explore'. _I pressed the button and my avatar told the co-pilot to take over and started to get out of the story.

This was a REALLY nice improvement in WT. Not sure why there wasn't a notification on this update, but it was cool as a rainbow shitting pony (I ain't no MLP Fan.). I walked my avatar around and looked at my waist blister gunners. They had boxes of ammunition sitting next to them and alerted faces, as if they were, again, expecting enemy fighters or armed bombers to attack. I poked my head out, excusing my self to the gunner stationed there, to see 16 100 lbs bombs loaded on the hardpoints.

I moved my character with the WASD to the cockpit and seated 'myself'.

"Taking over.", I mouthed into my headphone's mic. The co-pilot nodded and let my avatar take over. Moving the plane with my mouse, I banked to the right, where Europe was.

"Wanna know a joke?", I blurted out to my virtual co-pilot, getting bored after 5 minutes of flying.

"Shoot.", he said, and I was surprised. His voice was deep and a bit ragged, as if he was a veteran.

* * *

><p>In the dark, desolate, cold hallways of the Akagi, was multiple rolls of bandages and a Fusoji girl on her knees. Sargent Miyafuji Yoshika had a face of defeat, listening to the voices that told her the same meaning in her mind.<p>

_'You're useless.'_

Voices of Flak crews could be heard over the lasers, the siren, through the cold, steel, walls, and the groaning of metal. Yoshika stood up against the walls and in her mind, she accepted her fate.

_'I guess...there's nothing I could do. I'm essentially a useless girl, no training or whatsoever.'_, Yoshika said mentally to herself, in a defeated tone. Suddenly, the ship shook, a laser hitting the stern or bow, smoke belching out darkly. Mio kept calling in for her through the ear bead comms. But alas, near the central lift, lay a near unconscious Yoshika. Yoshika eyes were a quarter way closed and in her mind, she saw her father through her mind.

"You have a great power than you grandmother and your mother...", her seemingly real father told her, "with that power...you must become a great person and protect everyone." Yoshika was...star-struck by his words. She looked up to see she was in the central area of the carrier. A striker was standing idle, stuck in it's rack with a MG-42 propped against the striker.

'_Perhaps...maybe I CAN do something...'_, Yoshika thought as she stood up and limped towards the Striker Unit and the LMG. Knowing already that the Major is probably already out of ammo and is bravely fighting with only her katana. She slipped in and her magic activated, feeling the Striker Unit lock against her legs. She grasped the gun next to it, feeling the weight of a gun for the the first time. Then she heard in her earpiece was a Liberon pilot.

"Holy shit...", she heard the man. The Major had told her about the PBY-5a 'Catalinas' that patrol the Strait, radioing in the coordinates and the type, having to deal with lasers almost blasting them into oblivion. She then heard the _Akagi's_ captain radio in.

"This is the_ Akagi's_ captain to unidentified Cat, what are you doing!? You're going to be blasted out of the sky!", the captain said in the radio. She had learned from photos and a short description of the Catalinas, knowing the plane is much like the H6K4, but with armor, different design, more dead zones, and slower speed. The radio buzzed with life as the Cat pilot responded.

"Don't worry about me! Worry about your crew, captain! Just doing what I do!", he yelled into the radio, grunts and noises of lasers between the sentences. By the Yoshika stopped listening, she noticed the elevator was starting to move up.

* * *

><p>Jet took a look at the objectives, seeing them written next to the stars.<p>

*Support the Witch(es)

*Protect the Convoy-See it that Akagi and at least one or two destroyer escorts alive.

A laser whizzed by, nearly hitting Engine 1's props. His co-pilot cursed as he nursed the avatar's wounds, having a laser hit him directly through the right shoulder. He couldn't use it, and he let his co-pilot fly the big Cat Whale. His gunners had been blasting it away with their .50 cals, and one .30 cal. So far, he and his virtual crew had earned thirty hits and twenty-two critical hits, hitting the laser ports. The plane was able to settle intro 2-3 degree angle and gave the chance for the wounded avatar, being controlled by the player through as series of prompts, drop the bombs.

All six-teen 100 lbs bomb fell down into the B-2 like Neuroi and shattered many parts and ports. He heard the various voices on the radio, two being very easy to recognize, Major Sakamoto Mio and the rookie greenhorn Miyafuji Yoshika.

"Damn! Pilot that was some good hits...never thought I'd saw something like this!", the Major said, slightly awed by the beautiful and deadly explosions that bloomed across the Neuroi.

"Yeah, pilot-san! That looked so easy!", Yoshika said, completely awed by the explosions. Jet let out a chuckle and spoke through the virtual radio.

"Yeah...considering the fact I have a inch ass long hole in my right shoulder.", his avatar replied casually. That shocked the two witches that a man with a wound could talk so casually.

"And I don't feel any pain, ma'am.", I added in, earning a relieved sigh from Yoshika. The Neuroi was already annoyed, tried, and weaken by these petty creatures, screeching in their ears, out-screaming the air-raid siren.

"You got a window, Witches!", I urged them. I saw Yoshika take aim with her shaking gun and opened fire, striking the armor and revealing the core, destroying it in the process. The Neuroi screeched in pain before transitioning into a mess of white, glowing, beautiful lights. I heard my awed chatter of the virtual crew as the plane flew past the witches and enter the mass of light.

"Aw man! We were late for the party!", the sad voice of the combat-hyped member of the 501st JFW, Charlotte Yeager, or simply called Shirely. The pilot and the co-pilot snickered and fist bumped each other. They flew past the grumpy and pissed Perrie Clostermann, who ignored the large plane, and focused on the forms of her beloved Major and the stupid greenhorn Yoshika. They saw Francesca Lucchini catch up with them and waved 'Hi' with the pilots and the gunners. The sailors down below celebrate their survival, thanking the Witches and the crew for their help.

Not that anyone could notice that a Neuroified U-Boat sneaked upon the distracted convoy. And no one couldn't ancipicate the target of it's choosing. It rose from the water like a Rock Fish towards it's unlucky prey, and where the gun once stood proudly, was it's new form, no longer part of the Karlslander pride, glowing bloody red, it fired at the target it targeted to avenge it's brother. The 'Target' was always unlucky, weak, slow, and can easily die, like for example, the PBY. The last words of the pilot of the whale-like craft was this:

"Son of a Bitch."

There, the 'Sky Whale' as dubbed by many sailors and civilians, was sliced in half, adding in the delight the bastard alien was having. The sailors and witches could only watch as the proud, lumbering, giant flying boat that proudly flew the skies, boring the USL Flag on it's guns and ordinance it carries. The two halves erupted in a ball of flames, flames from hell that one of the sailors would describe in books they would soon write after the war, and consumed all but the guns and a violin case with, obviously, a pristine violin. The mockery of the proud and legendary Karlslander U-Boats did a horrible, screeching, cold laugh before escaping from view. Nobody could describe this horrible way to die, which all airborne forces and and armored forces men feared.

In eyes of the greenhorn Yoshika, she had experienced death for the first time, not caused by a disease, not caused by a animal, and God knows this, by humans. She had experienced death caused by the common enemy. There, she had experienced war to the fullest, and learned that even in victory, there is still death, and death will always have his victims no matter what. The ride back was quiet and depressing, no one had talked, knowing death was sawn in their eyes. The 501st, despite seeing planes get shot down frequently, their pilots and if they had a crew, survived and are rescued.

Here, they saw men, veterans or not, die off by a lousy laser by a Neuroi the military men and girls were too busy to notice. Then again, they were too busy lounging around and celebrating the survival of one of Fuso's prized ships and her crew. But still, it was quite unprofessional and led to the death of a crew of Liberons. Would everyone survive this war, could they be saved from the verge of death...no, nobody doesn't have that fictional power, and that statement was said in a book that Sargent Miyafuji Yoshika would write later on her book about her experiences in the Second Neuroi War, a war more bloodier than the First. She and her company of friends will experience more than a crew of dead men.

* * *

><p>In the other reality, the player was getting back up. His sudden death scared the shit out of him. He was in his menu where he could select his planes and see the map, but his planes were all red, meaning they cannot be used. He had to exit the game and saw his mail icon glowing golden. He checked his WT Virtual mail box, and was surprised to see a couple of achievements.<p>

_Scarred for Life: Scar a Witch. For Life...congrats, dick._

_Neuroi Killed: Killed a Neuroi for the first time, welcome to the party newbie. _

_First Big Catch-Bass: Kill a Large-Type Neuroi as your first kill, hot damn rookie! You bagged a Large one_

_Fuso's Thanks: Save one of Fuso's prized ships._

_Red Death: Die for the First Time in the SW Campaign._

_New Mail_

_Congrats, player! You discovered a secret we had created for our fans! We hope you enjoyed it!_

_See you in the skies,_

_The Developers of War Thunder _


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back here! Starting the story!**

* * *

><p>Under the cover of dusk, two tank companies, well, what's left, battled in a snow covered hilly forested area. Five T-34's, 2 BT-7's, and a T-34-85 were strewn around, on fire and completely torn to shreds. A tank witch armed with a BT-7 Model. 1937 Striker and a 45mm gun fire round after round at the offending target. She her uniform was covered in snow, ashes, and other forms of dirt. She just cambered another round from her diminishing supply, a T-34-85 drifted towards her, the commander popping out.<p>

"Support is unavailable! We're going to have to-", the commander said before the boom of the 85mm gun cut him off, "...we're going to have to evacuate the area!"

"Dammit! What's left!", the tank witch cursed.

"Only 3 T-34's, 5 BT-7's, me, and you!", he sadly said. The witch cursed a considerable amount of words.

"Get them to bunker in a safe area, I'll deal with this bastard!", the witch ordered, firing her gun. The commander was going to object in leaving her, but a flash of wind covered them. Looking over, they saw a aircraft fly pass them, bearing Liberon stars. It was a Liberon SBD-3 Dauntless, the main diver of the Liberon Navy. The witch mouthed a 'What the...'

The plane attracted the attention of then Large-Type Neuroi. It focused little, but after the Liberon pilot let out a 2-second burst, it immediately focused all beams on the plane. Red beams filled the airspace around the Dauntless, shaving it a new one.

"That man is a suicidal idiot!", the tank witch said, staring at the brave, but incredibly stupid pilot. The commander and his crew, who popped out, agreed with her. The Dauntless pulled up, climbing every minute, leading towards it's death of victory. The gunner fired with the twin, 7.62mm, 30 Cal. MGs placed on the rear of the cockpit. As it entered a arc, the beams intensify, placing a 2 fist wide hole on it's left wing, where two gold and red medal pin ups were painted on.

"On Mother Russia's beautiful tits, that man is dead already.", the tank witch swore, her face hardening.

"Wait, how the hell did a Liberon plane get here if it should over water!?", the commander questioned. Both soldiers looked at each other before back at the plane. The plane entered the terrifying 90 degree dive, ready to die and enter heaven. The beams kept going and going, and somehow they missed every fucking time. The transmission of the pilot was heard across on the tanks radios.

"HOLY MARY, I'M GOING TO BE BADASS!"

The plane dropped it's payload, pulling off before a beam clipped it's right wing off. The witch covered her mouth while the soldiers stared, opened mouth. Despite the Neuroi blowing up in the most glorious explosion in history, the explosion was completely ignored and all attention focused on the falling plane. The plane somehow stayed on a at least a 'straight' angle. It landed close near the witch on the T-34-85, and the group rushed over to see any survivors had survived.

The elevators were ripped off and was crushed under the treads of the magical BT-7 treads. The engine fire turned into a smoking remains, the point were the fuselage and the right wing conjured was nearly ripped off, the frames being seen. The gunner was laying dead, his forehead laying on the now bloody twin, 7.62mm, 30 Cal. MGs. The cockpit's glasses were broken and the pilot was unconscious, his injuries severe. The tankers dragged the dead gunner and the pilot out of the smoldering wreck of the proud Liberon Naval Air Force.

"Dear Mother Russia.", the T-34-85 commander said, seeing the busted forehead of the gunner. It was cracked open like a watermelon, blood leaking out instead of juices. The tank witch stared down at the pilot. A scarf completely covered his face, and his goggles were cracked. He suddenly shot up and fumbled to get his pistol.

"Hold on! Hold on!", the T-34-85 commander said to the panicking pilot. The pilot let go of his holster and scratched the back of his head.

"You were lucky to survive, you bumbling fool.", the witch said, smacking his head. The pilot cursed and stared at her.

"What the fuck, lady!?", he swore. He took off his cap, showing off his messy, black, glossy hair. He apparently didn't care if it was cold. He took off his goggles off second and showed his aviator glasses. The witch scowled and then slapped him.

"You got you're comrade killed because of you're stupidity!", the witch said angrily and pointed at his dead gunner.

"Aw fuck tucks."

* * *

><p>Jet saw himself in a really bad situation. He and his character stared at his dead gunner. He wanted to puke at the sight of the detailed crack of the dead gunner. He mentally smacked himself in doing the act, but it was a game after all. He pressed a couple buttons as prompted on the screen to get his character up.<p>

"Fuck fuck fuck.", Jet swore into his microphone. He moved his character over to the dead gunner and stared at the deceased man.

"He smashed his head into the gun, product of the 'soft' landing you attempted.", the T-34-85 commander explained. Jet stared longer at the corpse.

"I'm sorry about your comrade.", the witch said. Jet shook his head before getting up.

"It's okay, ma'am.", Jet mouthed into his mic. He then proceeded to walk over to a rock and sat against it. He covered his face with his leather glove. He waved off the tankers and he then exited the game, sending his character into sleep. He exited the game and got off the chair.

"This is getting crazy."

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah, I didn't had the willpower to write a 2k chapter, so I shortened it to a 1k. Have a nice day!<strong>


End file.
